


Only the Lonely Know Why I Cry

by Lucky107



Series: The Wanderer [1]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Bullying, Children, Crude Humor, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Mild Language, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: "Good thing your daddy's a doctor, huh?  I know just the right kind of kiss to make it better."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Only the Lonely - Roy Orbison - 1960

Cassidy is the last one lingering in the corridors after class.

It's an open secret among the Vault residents that she struggles with fundamental arithmetic; the numbers just don't make sense in her head because she sees ink on the paper and not the hypothetical values it represents.

But Edwin Brotch sees promise.

He holds Cassidy back after class to go over the lesson again, one-on-one.  Instead of offering her a sheet of paper with some numbers written on it, though, he presents her with a series of random objects.  Pencils, erasers, textbooks and novels - you name it and Cassidy's added it, subtracted it, multiplied and divided it.

And she's on her way back home from one such lesson when she turns a corner to find herself face-to-face with the local bully, Butch DeLoria.

The boy sneers when he sees the textbook in Cassidy's hand and the wicked grin spreads like wildfire.  "What's this?"  He asks, plucking the textbook right out of her hands.  "Another date with Mr. Brotch?"

"It wasn't a date," Cassidy counters.  "He's _helping_ me."

"Helping you?"  Butch thumbs through the textbook and despite his apparent lack of attention, he lifts it just out of reach when she tries to snatch it back.  "Perhaps ol' Brotch is trying to teach you the basics of _human_ multiplication..."

Cassidy jumps up just high enough for her fingers to brush over the book's cover as Butch teases her, but she fails to grab it back from him.  "You're a real asshole, Butch."

When he finally relents, bored with her serious reaction, he hits her over the head with the textbook before returning it.

"Go on then," he says, cocking his thumb over his shoulder.  "Run along back to wherever it is you come from.  I'm sure the village misses their resident idiot."

It's petty and it's stupid, but somehow Butch's words cut deep into the insecurity beneath Cassidy's hard shell.  It would be a lie to say she hasn't known it for some time now: her father wasn't born in Vault 101 like the rest of the grown-ups and that makes Cassidy an outsider.  Between the web of thinly veiled lies and the borderline isolation, her entire life has been one big smoke and mirrors act.

And now Butch has thrown it right in her face, like it's been the best-kept insider's joke within the Vault.

Cassidy will never belong within the community in the way that Butch and Amata do because she's not one of them - and the last person she needs to hear that from is Butch DeLoria.

Tears of hurt, of frustration, sting at Cassidy's dark eyes and threaten to fall, but she tries to blink them away.  Even at eight years old, she won't give Butch the satisfaction of seeing her cry - and so she stems the pain in the only way she knows how: she throws a strong punch, startling them both.

The textbook in her hand falls to the floor in a crudely-spread mess at her feet and her fist collides with the steel wall just next to Butch's head.

A jagged line of steel, where the wall plates don't quite align, slices the surface of her middle finger clean open.

Cassidy hisses at the sharp sting and Butch, momentarily paralyzed by her violent outburst, begins to laugh.  "Aw, what's the matter, teacher's pet?  Gonna cry?"

But Cassidy stoops to grab her textbook from the floor and storms off, leaving Butch's taunts an empty echo.

\- - -

When James returns home from his work in the clinic, the first thing he notices is the makeshift bandage around Cassidy's finger and the way she's nursing her hand.  He offers her an endearing smile that she refuses to acknowledge, but when he places his hand on her shoulder he realises she's trembling.  "Oh, sweetie, what's the matter?"

But Cassidy doesn't say a word; she won't even look him in the eyes.

Stubborn—just like her mother.

James kneels down in front of his daughter to be more at her level, but he's quiet and he's calm.  He presents an understanding sort of patience when he says, "I won't ask you what happened - just let me take a little look."

And slowly, almost cautiously, Cassidy extends her hand to her father so that he can unwrap the bandages and inspect the injury that lies beneath.  By now it's become a thin line, almost invisible save the remnants of split skin and dry blood caught along the split.

It's hardly worth the tears.

"It's okay, it's okay - see?  It's just a little cut."  James chuckles as he runs his thumb over the cut and Cassidy doesn't respond - it doesn't even hurt.

He cleans and bandages her finger with expert care before he places a kiss, like he's some sort of gentleman who doesn't reek of scotch and chloroform, on the soft padding that the bandage provides.  "Good thing your daddy's a doctor, huh?  I know just the right kind of kiss to make it better."

But her father will never understand: there's no kiss that can mend the hurt in Cassidy's heart.


End file.
